Bat Out of Hell
by BecFace11
Summary: Set in a future where Britain has devolved into chaos under the 'rule' of Uther Pendragon, Merlin is travelling around, trying to stay under the radar and stay alive, when he meets the golden haired Arthur Pendragon, disinherited son of Uther. This chance meeting could change his life. (Based on the song 'Bat Out of Hell' by Meat Loaf. Some lyrics have been shamelessly lifted.)


The wind whistled through Merlin's hair as he rode down the street. He tried to ignore his surroundings, but he couldn't help noticing the menacing figures seeming to lurk everywhere. There was a man in the shadows of an alley, a gun very obviously bulging in his pocket and a knife glinting in his hand.

The area he was riding through was completely run down, little showing of the past splendour of human civilisation. At one point he swore he saw a young boy down in the gutter, starting to foam in the heat. It was unlikely he'd be missed.

When he was young the world had been so vibrant and colourful and happy, but then it had all been destroyed by that tyrant Uther Pendragon. Almost overnight his armies had taken control of the whole of Britain, robbing the poor of all their luxuries. People had turned to theft to survive, but Uther hadn't been affected by it. He just lived up in his castle 'ruling', while all around him the country devolved into chaos.

There had been riots, but nothing had gotten through to Uther. He seemed to live in his own little world. Merlin had lost his mother in those riots.

Shaking his head to dispel the memory, Merlin concentrated once again on the road ahead. The sky was beginning to darken. Soon he'd need to stop for the night. If he didn't get some rest, he wouldn't be able to sustain the invisibility spell keeping him safe. Usually he'd hide himself away in a derelict house, or any other form of shelter he could find, but today, for some reason, he didn't.

He hid his motorbike away, casting a glamour so it wouldn't be recognisable, then followed the sound of music. On the outside, the building looked just like the others, but once he stepped inside, it was obvious it wasn't.

He'd heard of places like these, small safe havens, warded by sorcerers to keep anyone who might disrupt the peace from finding them, but he'd thought they were a myth.

The room he'd stepped into was a small bar with about 20 people seated on chairs and stools and boxes, chatting and drinking. It was the most relaxed he'd seen anyone in years.

He wandered up to the bar.

"I was wondering when you'd turn up, Emrys," said the old man at the bar.

"What?" asked Merlin, shocked. "How do you know my name?"

"We are kin you and I. I would recognise you anywhere. I welcome you to Avalon, but know this. Once you have stepped out of this place, you can never return. Your destiny is clouded, but I can see that. Make the most of this night."

With that he turned and left.

"Wait," called Merlin. "What do you mean?"

But the man was gone. Merlin glared at the bar, almost wanting to leave this strange place right now and forget what he'd been told, but something made him stay.

There was a crash by the front door and a figure in a hooded cloak sauntered in. He made a beeline for the bar and sat down, completely ignoring Merlin.

"Whiskey Kilgarrah!" he demanded, and the old man reappeared to pour it for him.

Merlin was about to try and confront him again, when the man next to him pulled down his hood. He would recognise that face anywhere, that halo of golden hair. It was a commonly known fact that Arthur Pendragon, Uther's son, had been disinherited after he'd tried to stand up against his father during the riots, but no-one had known what had become of him, and yet, here he was.

Arthur turned, as if he could feel Merlin's stare.

"Do I know you?"

"Um, I'm Merlin," replied Merlin, holding out his hand.

Arthur just glared at it.

"So I don't know you."

"Um, no, but I know who you are."

"And who's that? The son of a tyrant? A brave hero who stood up to their father for what they believed in? I am none of those things. I am a no-one like everyone else. There is nothing I can do to save this godforsaken place. I'm just a useless nobody."

Merlin just sat there in silence for a few moments, not knowing what to say.

"I'm sure you're not useless. Even if you've lost hope in yourself, your name brings hope to people across the country. You give them a motive to fight."

"What use is fighting? My father will never be destroyed. The only thing to do is wait and pray for his death," said Arthur bitterly, downing his whiskey, then pouring himself another from the bottle Kilgarrah had left. "Want some?" he asked, offering Merlin the bottle.

"Thanks," replied Merlin, summoning a glass from behind the bar.

Once he'd downed his own whiskey he turned to find Arthur staring at him.

"Your eyes," he murmured. "So beautiful. Just like Morgana's."

"Morgana was your sister?" he asked tentatively.

Arthur nodded.

"My father has always despised magic unless he can twist it to his own command. When he discovered Morgana had magic of her own, he tried to control her, but she's stubborn. She refused. She left and joined the riots. She was captured by my some of my father's guards. He killed her himself. That's when I finally realised what he was like."

Arthur stared down at the bar as he spoke, trying to stop the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.

"I lost my mother in those riots as well. She was shot in the back while trying to rescue a child from being trampled."

He remembered the moment he'd seen her body collapse. He'd tried to run out of hiding and help her, but Will had restrained him, covering his mouth to muffle his screams. They'd recovered her body a few hours later when the army had moved out, and burned it a few days later when Merlin had gathered himself back together.

He had wanted to fight, and get revenge, but Will had insisted there was more they could do helping people, and Merlin was no soldier. He was currently on his way to collect news about how the rest of the country was fairing.

"I'm sorry," said Arthur, breaking through Merlin's thoughts.

"You don't need to be sorry. It's not as if it was your fault."

"It was my father's though."

"You are not your father."

"I try not to be."

They both took another sip of their drinks.

"So why are you here then?" asked Arthur. "We don't usually see many new faces."

"I'm scouting the country to bring any news back to my village."

"Don't you know how dangerous it can be travelling? You look so skinny you couldn't hurt a fly, let alone hold off a gang of thieves."

"I have my own protection," protested Merlin, his eyes flashing gold once again.

He heard Arthur breath in sharply as if he was afraid. He looked up. Arthur's eyes were wide, pupils dilated.

"Arthur?" asks Merlin hesitantly.

"I'm sorry. Please excuse me," replied Arthur standing up so fast he almost knocked over his stool.

"Wait!" Merlin called after him as he disappeared through a door at the back of the room.

Merlin was contemplating whether it would be a good idea to follow him or not when Kilgarrah re-emerged and picked up Arthur's empty glass.

"Don't let your destiny walk away from you. He is our light, but only you can persuade him of that. Without him Uther will never be defeated. Up the stairs, first door on the right."

Before Merlin could say a word Kilgarrah had disappeared again. Shaking his head at the old man's strange behaviour he stood up and made his way toward the door Arthur had gone through. Beyond the door was a narrow hallway and a staircase. The stairs didn't look in particularly good condition and Merlin ascended cautiously.

The first door on the right was shut. Merlin raised a tentative hand and knocked.

"Who is it?" demanded Arthur's voice.

"It's Merlin."

There was a pause, then the sound of feet crossing the creaking floorboards. The door opened slightly to reveal Arthur's face.

"What do you want?" asked Arthur sounding annoyed.

"It's just, you left so suddenly I wanted make sure I hadn't done something to scare you or anything," replied Merlin awkwardly, staring down at the floor as he spoke. "I honestly didn't mean to."

There was a moment's silence.

"Idiot," said Arthur, and Merlin looked up. "You could never frighten me."

"But," started Merlin confused. "Why did you run away then? And your eyes. Your pupils were dilated with fear."

Arthur chuckled almost nervously. "Not with fear."

"What… Oh! Um."

Merlin blushed as he realised what Arthur was getting at.

"Look. It's fine. Just go back downstairs. I'll be back down in a few minutes and we can pretend this never happened."

Merlin was tempted to do just that, but there was something about Arthur, so instead he just stood there like a fool.

"Well?" prompted Arthur after a few moments.

"I…" started Merlin, but he didn't know what to say.

"Are you mentally deficient?"

"Hey!" exclaimed Merlin.

When Merlin once again didn't move Arthur sighed to himself.

"Can you please just give me a few minutes or I don't think I'll be able to restrain myself any longer."

Merlin shuddered slightly at the thought. It had been so long since he'd any contact of that kind. When they were younger he and Will had fooled around together, then Freya had arrived and Will had been unavailable. There had been a few others since then but none of them had felt right and they'd ended quickly. But Arthur was something else with his gleaming golden hair and strong jaw. He looked so beautiful and yet so broken with all he had been through. Merlin couldn't imagine how hard it must have been to find out someone you'd looked up to your whole life was so heartless. Despite everything Merlin still believed he was worthy of the hope the people saw in him, he only needed to make Arthur believe it as well.

Before he could change his mind, Merlin pushed open the door and entered the room. Arthur stumbled back slightly shocked.

"What? Merlin?"

But Merlin shut him up with a kiss. After a moment Arthur kissed him back not noticing when Merlin nudged the door shut.

Arthur kissed him urgently, pressing him against the wall. Merlin could feel his arousal pressing up against his own, only separated by the fabric of their trousers. Before he even realised what he was doing their clothes were gone. Arthur jumped in surprise but didn't take his weight off of Merlin.

"Your eyes! I love it when they glow like that."

"Arthur," moaned Merlin moving his hands along Arthur's exposed back.

"Bed," said Arthur as he dragged Merlin towards the small bed. The mattress was old and falling apart but neither of them noticed.

They hardly slept that night. When they weren't making love they lay curled in each other's arms, not talking, just taking comfort in the other's presence.

When the sun began to peak over the horizon Merlin finally broke the silence.

"I can't stay here," he almost whispered.

"I know," sighed Arthur.

"I don't want to leave."

"I know. Promise you'll come back and see me?"

"I don't know if I'll be able to," he replied, remembering what Kilgarrah had said the previous night. "But I'll try."

"If I had you by my side I think I might be able to try and stand up to my father again."

"I will always be by your side whether I am there or not. You will be a great man, you just need to believe in yourself. I do."

Arthur leant forwards and placed his lips over Merlin's trying to commit him to memory.

"Are you sure you have to leave?"

"There are people relying on me. I can't abandon them."

Sighing, Merlin untangled himself from Arthur and stood up to grab his clothes. He dressed quickly a sad smile on his face.

"Let me come with you then," blurted Arthur.

Merlin spun round to see him sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I don't want to lose you when I've only just found you."

"It's too dangerous to have the two of us out there. It will just draw more attention. I won't risk you like that."

With one last kiss, Merlin went to the door. He was about to leave when he heard Arthur murmur something behind him, almost too quiet to hear.

"I love you."

Merlin froze and almost turned back towards Arthur.

"I love you too," replied Merlin, then, before his resolve crumbled, he hurried out of the room, down the stairs and out of the building.

As soon as he was outside he ran towards where he had hidden his bike, not quite managing to hold back the tears threatening to soak his face.

Quickly he got ready, dragging the bike out to the street, wiping his sleeve across his eyes before he set of. As he did he saw a flash of golden hair through one of the windows and knew Arthur was watching him. He raised his hand, sending a small stream of power up to protect his lover, then stepped onto his bike before he can think better of it.

Soon the wind was whistling through his hair and the sun is climbing in the sky. However hard he tried, he couldn't dispel thoughts of Arthur. If only the world were different they might have had a happy ending, but in this world there were no happy endings. Maybe one day they would be reunited and together they would storm Uther's castle and tear it down brick by brick. Maybe then they could have a happy ending, but right now Merlin had a duty to his village, and Arthur wasn't ready. There were many good people in this word, but Arthur's intentions were pure, even if he'd lost confidence in himself.

Merlin was broken from his reverie by the sudden sight of the corner up ahead of him. He'd been so distracted he hadn't been paying attention to the road.

The tyres screeched beneath him. He could feel the whole bike swinging out of control, hurtling towards the corner. He felt frozen. This was it. He was about to die. Everything he'd been through and he was going to die by crashing a motorbike because he'd been too preoccupied by a stupid, beautiful prat. Part of him wished he'd never met Arthur, but he knew that was a lie. He wouldn't change one second of his time with Arthur, even if it stopped him from dying.

He screwed his eyes tight, not wanting to see the edge, and suddenly he was falling, or was it flying? Adrenaline was burning though his veins making his heart race.

He tensed himself for an impact that never came. Cautiously he opened his eyes. Below him he could see his body, in the bottom of a pit in the blazing sun, torn and twisted at the foot of a burning bike. The last thing he saw before it all faded from view was his heart still beating, breaking out of his body like a bat out of hell.


End file.
